


Swindler's Remorse

by TinyFakeFanficRock



Series: Park's Quests [4]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Brief mention of animal death, F/F, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Misogynist Slurs, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape Recovery, avert your eyes Legion fans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 20:59:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13749147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinyFakeFanficRock/pseuds/TinyFakeFanficRock
Summary: Living through trauma isn't easy, but neither is living after it.





	Swindler's Remorse

Bernie stayed at the New Vegas Medical Clinic for the better part of a week to recuperate from the injuries the Legionaries had inflicted on her. Sure, she'd spent a lot of it under anesthesia while the Auto-Doc did its work, but even with that, she'd had plenty of time to talk to Dr. Usanagi about everything she'd been through.

She hadn't. Wouldn't. Every time Arcade brought it up, she'd say, "I'm fine," in that flat voice that always meant _end-of-discussion_. Arcade didn't believe that for a moment, but he always let it drop. She'd been forced to do too much already. She'd go when she was ready, he reassured himself. Maybe she would start out by confiding in her girlfriend Corporal Betsy, or one of their friends back at the Lucky 38, talk about the ordeal with someone she knew well before discussing it with someone she didn't.

But when they finally returned to the presidential suite, Bernie said only, "Get your fucking-shit-up stuff together. It's time to demolish the goddamn Fort." While the others scattered to collect their equipment, Bernie soaked a rag in turpentine, cornered Rex, and grimly scrubbed away the Legion bull painted on his side. 

"So, uh, boss, this seems kind of sudden. What brought this on?" asked Raul as Bernie dried a newly-shiny Rex off and began refreshing her own supplies.

"Fuckers had to go sometime," she replied. "That time happens to be now. We are killing every Legion son of a bitch in there and using their bodies as kindling to burn the fucking place down."

"Hey, I thought you were gay," said Veronica.

Bernie cocked her head quizzically. "I am. My girlfriend will be happy to confirm that. Also, what the fuck does that have to do with anything?"

"I just wanted to know why you started talking dirty to Boone in front of all of us. 'Oooh, baby, we're gonna decorate a cross with Caesar's intestines, awww, yeah, and then we're gonna feed his bones to some NCR guard dogs ...'"

Cass cut her off, laughing. "God, stop before he starts pitching a tent."

Arcade, diligently avoiding the temptation to check if this had actually happened, busied his eyes with counting his ammo.

Boone himself gave only a little "Hrmph," though it sounded like an amused one.

\---

Bernie's head was on a swivel all the way down Highway 95. Arcade couldn't blame her -- he was jumpy, too, after what they'd gone through last time they were on the road -- but she'd damn near shot a tumbleweed. Having six additional pairs of eyes and ED-E's impressive array of sensors, to say nothing of all the additional firepower their friends carried, didn't seem to steady her at all. It was one more reason he was worried about her.

"So now that we'll be traveling through the ol' Cove, do you regret dumping toxic waste on it?" Veronica asked slyly.

"I regret nothing," Bernie replied, clearly trying for humorous grandiosity, but with a steel in her voice that made Arcade shiver. He wondered if he'd been the only one who heard it, but Veronica was right that the place was still radioactive, so he focused on passing out doses of Rad-X as they approached.

Bernie hung back, talking softly to Lily.

Lily, of course, did not reply at the same volume. "I can do that, Jimmy. Don't you worry, Gramma will take care of it."

Bernie had a genuine smile as she thanked her, and Arcade started daring to hope that maybe she was really going to be okay after all.

\---

Their assault on Fortification Hill was not, in any sense of the word, a fair fight, even though Bernie traded her trademark explosives for her pistol once they blew up the gate, saying she didn't want any slaves caught in the blasts. Arcade took down the crucified prisoners, hoping to be able to save them, but only one had been put up recently enough to have a decent chance of survival. The others he could only offer apologies and enough Med-X to ease their passing. Then he caught up with the others, who'd fought their way to the gateway to the heart of the Fort.

Beyond the drawbridge, Bernie and Raul shot their way to the healer's tent, the captured fighters' cells, and the Brahmin pen, freeing slaves as they went. Arcade put down the dogs as efficiently as possible; it wasn't their fault that horrible people had trained them beyond help. Cass blasted a hole through Otho's chest. Rex tore out Antony's throat. ED-E rained laser death and jaunty tunes. Nobody saw Lily, but, well, that was kind of her specialty. When the Praetorian Guards came to the entrance of Caesar's tent to assess the situation, Boone methodically picked them off.

Veronica led the charge into Caesar's tent, straight toward Lucius, who laughed at her right up until she punched his jaw clean off. Arcade was right behind her, searching for Vulpes and vaguely wondering what he'd have to do to make it up to Bernie if he accidentally happened to blow the man's balls off himself. It turned out to be a purely academic question, however: The leader of the Frumentarii was not in the tent.

The leader of the Legion, however, was. Caesar sat doubled over in his throne with his head in one hand.

"Hurts, don't it?" drawled Bernie, pouring herself a cup of Caesar's coffee. "Without your guards, you're just a sad motherfucker in a stupid cape."

"You _bitch_ ," Caesar hissed at her. 

Cass dumped him out of his throne and set about tying him up. Caesar aimed a halfhearted punch at her, but Cass deflected it easily. Apparently the sparring lessons with Veronica were sticking. "Thought you fuckers weren't supposed to get taken alive."

Caesar took another swing at her, but hit only air. "Christ, woman, my fucking head already hurt."

"I got a cure for that," Boone rumbled from behind her, rifle leveled. 

"I doubt the NCR would look very fondly on your killing a prisoner of war," Caesar told him in a withering tone. "Especially a high-value one such as myself." Did he not _realize_ how ridiculous he sounded?

Bernie leaned over so she was laughing in his face. "Even if you were actually worth something -- which you're not, -- I'm not NCR, shitbird. And he's retired anyway."

"Honorably discharged." Arcade fought down his chuckle at Boone's muttered correction. He was really taking all those too-high guesses at his age to heart. It was a little bit cute.

Caesar ruined that train of thought by continuing his bluster. "You think killing me will end my Legion, don't you? Haven't you ever heard of a line of succession, you stupid bitch?"

"I'm not here to end the Legion today. Haven't you ever heard of killing an asshole just because he's an asshole? I'll end the Legion next week. Or so. Gotta check my calendar -- whole lot of assholes on my list." Bernie paused a moment, then added one last "Asshole."

Veronica piped up from the tent behind Caesar's throne. "Hey, I thought you guys didn't like technology. What's an Auto-Doc doing here? Especially since it's broken."

Bernie ignored Caesar's reply -- it was mostly swearing anyway, -- touched Arcade's forearm, and gave him a meaningful look. _So that's what they wanted me for, and why they didn't do anything to me._ It felt strangely comforting to know he had been spared injury for a reason beyond the Legionaries' cruel caprice.

Suddenly, a heavy metal door slammed in the distance, making them jump. Bernie went to the tent's entrance and called across the now eerily silent Fort, "Hi! You got him?"

"Just like you asked, Jimmy. He's not going anywhere."

"Excellent. Thanks, Lily," she replied warmly. She turned to the others and said, "I'd like a word with Inculta. Arcade, you're with me. Everybody else, hang out here. Boone, try not to shoot Caesar till I come back. Rex, pissing on him is just fine."

As they approached the weather monitoring station, they could see Lily's expression had gone fierce. "Jimmy, he said some terrible things about you and little Arcade." It should've been the last thing on his mind at the moment, but Arcade would never stop finding it odd to be referred to in his six-foot-three adulthood as "little."

"I'm sure he did," Bernie replied calmly.

"Don't worry; I didn't believe a word of it. He is a very, very naughty boy. Leo would very much like to chop him. Are you sure you don't want me to spank him at least?"

"That's quite all right, Lily. We can take it from here. You can meet up with the others in Caesar's tent. Don't chop _him_ yet, either."

They watched her amble easily toward the top of the hill for a moment, and then Bernie closed her eyes, drew in a deep breath, and set her free hand on the door handle. Another few heartbeats elapsed before she said, "Let's finish this," and opened the door.

Vulpes turned toward the sound and, seeing them, smiled; Arcade shuddered involuntarily, remembering the last time he'd seen that look. "Why, Miss Park, what a good dog, to come home to her owner all on her own." _His bravado's still intact, I see._

"No one owns me, motherfucker, and _your_ owner's as good as dead. Regretting your life choices right about now?"

"Oh, yes." He pointed to Arcade. "I regret not having him fuck you, too."

Bernie's eyes went wild, but not her aim. She shot him in the left knee and right ankle, and he went down. She was on him instantly, collar in hand, her movements feral in a way that frankly terrified Arcade. "Who's the bitch now, Inculta?" she growled, looping the leash around his neck, bracing her foot on his groin, and pulling it snug against his throat. Then Bernie looked over to Arcade, her voice a bit more under control. "Got anything you want to tell this worthless prick?"

He shook his head; even if he had prepared any _bon mots_ for the situation, Bernie had far more right to the last word than he did.

"Well, I do. I thought a lot about what I would do once I had you like this, Inculta, how I would teach you what it feels like to be at the mercy of a sadistic motherfucker who hates you. I imagined all kinds of scenarios: strangling you with this leash, taking your dick off with your own Ripper -- it's too long a list, but let me tell you, I got pretty creative."

Was that _amusement_ that flashed through Vulpes' eyes?

Whatever it was, it drew a shiver from Bernie, though she quickly recovered herself and continued, "But you know what? Fuck that. I'm not you. I'm better than you." With that, she drew her pistol, blew his brains out with the first shot, added two more for good measure, turned on her heel and walked out of the weather monitoring station, reloading her gun but never looking back.

Arcade, as ever, followed her back to Caesar's tent.

"Thought you'd never get back." Boone raised his rifle expectantly.

"Indulge me one more minute, Boone. I have something to say to this pissbag." She turned to Caesar. 

"I didn't bother telling you this at the time, because you were too busy patronizing me and it's just a little thing, in the grand scheme of what a colossal fucking shitstain you are, but your idea of 'Hegelian dialectics' is actually a clusterfuck of Hegel and Kant. You fucked up the whole East, and you don't even understand the philosophy you used to half-assedly justify it, you _stupid fuck_."

Caesar gaped at her.

"I'm sick of looking at you. Boone? All yours."

He needed no further prompting. Bernie did not flinch as Caesar's head exploded beside her. She watched his body drop to the ground, then said, "Check and _fucking_ mate," not bothering to wipe away the blood on her face as she crossed the room to Boone and shook his hand.

Arcade knew he should have felt satisfaction watching them exchange smiles -- _Boone is smiling, write down the date_ \-- but instead something uneasy coiled in his gut. This did not feel like closure.


End file.
